


The Clown in the Cave

by Lonewritersclub



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batcave, Bitter Selina, Captivity, Dark Bruce Wayne, Disappointed Alfred, Fluff and Smut, Heavy Angst, Manipulation, Oblivious Joker, Sex, Soft white room, as per usual, batfam, good bye arkham, it's the family, welcome wayne manor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-01-24 04:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18563617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lonewritersclub/pseuds/Lonewritersclub
Summary: In the Wayne Manor the Cat lives upstairs and the Clown in the cave. Outside the Bat reigns over the city and once he returns home, Master Bruce is to rule some more.





	1. Bon appétit!

The sound of a descending Alfred can be heard all the way into Joker’s cell from the clipety-clap of his modest leather shoes tapping on the polished stone stairs to the cave. Joker inhales deeply through his nose, closing his eyes to try and smell the dinner even through the thick bulletproof glass wall.

The butler comes into Joker’s line of vision just a few seconds later holding the usual silver platter in his white gloved hands. He doesn’t even bother to glance at him before pushing the tray into the cell through the specifically designed slot in the wall.

Joker rubs his hands together excitedly until he can reach for the platter and see what Jeeves has cooked for him this evening. Roasted potatoes, tomatoes and salmon. It looks absolutely delicious and is still steaming with warmth when Joker pulled off the silver lid.  

“Ah, this looks divine, Alfred! But the real test comes with the tasting of the fish. Has it been overcooked or is it just right? We’ll soon see!” the jester says with a giggle full of anticipation as he skips over the small table behind to the couch and sets the platter down.

Joker carefully presses his shiny fork through the fillet and sighs out in pleasure as the fishy flakes are nicely pulled apart. With a dash of fresh lemon spritzed over the fish, Joker takes his first bite of it tentatively.

“Magnificent! If this was pasta, I’d commend you on cooking al dente! I don’t know what they say about fish but they would say it now if they could try this salmon here. If I dare say so, I think you may have outdone yourself again, Alfie! This is spectacular!” Joker announces to the butler, throwing his hands in the air for good measure and applauding.

Jeeves spares him a small dry smile in return, his hands tucked behind him back as he bows ever so slightly, ever so modestly.

“Thank you, sir. But if I may remind you once again, please place _all_ of the tableware into the slot after you have finished this time. It is Master Bruce’s request.”

Joker shakes his head dismissively and waves his forked hand supposedly reassuringly.

“Oh, certainly, Jeeves! Don’t you worry about any of that. Everything will be tiptop once I’m done here.”

The butler nods slightly again before taking his leave back upstairs. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

Joker focuses on dining then, enjoying the glass of white wine with his exquisite fish and creamy potatoes while swinging his feet high-spiritedly underneath the table. It gets a little boring sometimes in the cell, most of the time being all by himself and having not much to do other than read and read and then read some more, and all Bruce gets him are the classics and all they do is bore him ever more. Joker has his cards of course but he doesn’t really care to play by himself that much. One can play solitaire only so much before losing all fun of it.

But today is a good day. A fun day. Why?

Because Bruce was with him today. Yes, the man of the manor himself! He came into Joker's cell earlier that day, he sat his nice tight booty on Joker’s couch and watched while Joker put on a riveting performance for him. Joker danced and sang and did all sorts of delightful things that had the man in front of him flush from all the amusement and cheeky remarks.

Then by the time Joker was all out of breath from a particularly strenuous act of entertainment, Bruce pulled him by the waist to sit on his lap to catch his breath. Joker was all smiles, curling up to Bruce’s strong form entrancingly while Bruce’s hand then started to travel across Joker’s thigh under his white hospital-like gown causing pleasant tingles to spark across Joker’s sensitive skin.

Joker’s grin only widened by the end of it, Bruce eyes locked with his as he was laid down onto his back on the soft couch and his legs spread around his unyielding hips. Bruce’s mouth covered his when the sounds started to become too loud.

The clown became putty in his hands as soon as there was skin-to-skin touching. All of his sharp, energetic edges smoothed out and became pliant and mouldable in Bruce’s hands, merely trembling or writhing impatiently or out of over-stimulation at most. It was a pleasure all in itself to Bruce and he always found himself smiling, too, out of the simple satisfaction of having such control over the normally reckless creature underneath him. Bruce took pride in it, in his capabilities, and made sure to never relent his hold of control and power over him knowing otherwise there would be hell to pay.

There was a clear hierarchy in the manor on top of which Bruce alone ruled. The clown could barely be seen in the model of order at all but he didn’t seem to mind it. Or perhaps he just wasn’t aware of it. Either way, it didn’t matter to Bruce all that much as long as he himself recognised the situation and knew his own responsibilities as well as his countless privileges.

Besides, as they say, ignorance is bliss and Bruce wasn’t looking for a sad clown. He wanted to have the clown who adored him to no end and would do anything to gain his attention in both good and bad, although Bruce, of course, allowed only the better alternative to be played with.

Yes, Bruce thought as he made Joker moan in time with his hips hitting home and squeezing his wrists against the couch a little tighter so there was just enough room to wiggle in but not enough to escape from, he might have not had everything he could have ever wanted but he had everything he could have and he had it just the way he wanted it.

Joker sighs out happily, and having now finished with his lovely dinner, he slides the silver tray into the slot before it travels to back to the other side of the glass wall. This time each piece of the cutlery for the meal are returned.


	2. Femme Fatale

The following day is when the cat comes out of the bag and goes down into the cave to join the fanfare. The arresting batsignal is lit up and the Bat is already one foot out the door, or rather, stepping into the batmobile in matter of seconds from the notice.

His purposeful dark figure merges with gloomy starkness of the cave, his retreating back bedecked with his heavy royal cape which is being gaze upon with blissful longing until it cannot be seen anymore. Joker’s hands are planted against glass wall as he leans as close to the exhilarating night ahead of the Bat as he can.

Oh, how he wishes he could go out there too and taste the laughter that fills his aching lungs during a chase or see the moon again, blooming with silver light that drapes over the lasercut edges and lines of Batsy’s armor and then over the lingering softness in the curves of his shoulders and strong hands as they grasp around Joker’s wrists with comforting strength.

Joker feels desolate and distressed at times when he considers the way things are now, how stripped away of untameable excitement and lack of restrictions he has become in context of how they used to be. But then he remembers that although he’s captured, he’s captured with the mighty love of the Batman – it may be in the rough but what else is new!

He’s right where he should be. Right where he needs to be. Right where he wants to be. Right where Batman wants him to be. He should be glad.

But then the cat wanders in front of his cell when she watches the batmobile exit. The tails of her long black coat wag like a tail behind her legs as she moves in her lumpy high heeled boots to the computers near Joker’s cell. Her arms are crossed over her tight-up chest, head held high that her pointy nose might just make a dent in the ceiling, and her purply mouth formed in a disinterested line of boringness.

Joker raises one eyebrow at her and catches her attention with the scratch of a match against sandpaper. She stops and turns to look at him, displeasure overexposed on her judgemental face. Joker is waiting for the piece of boulder to smash her on the head and instantly kill her as her nose carves a serious fracture in the rock.

“If you’re looking for Jeeves to clean your litterbox, he ain’t here, Pussycat”, Joker quips pushing himself off the glass and tilting his head to the side to lift up his chin. She laughs mockingly and takes a couple of bombastic steps to come closer to the glass wall, shaking her head leisurely.

“That’s real cute, clown. Thanks for letting me know, but I’m not here for Alfred. I just wanted to come down and kiss my husband good luck for the night. That’s before I sit down by the monitors and help him do his job and make sure he stays safe”, she responds before giving Joker a long stare after a flip of her chopped up, depressingly black hair.

Joker doesn’t bother to answer that information with anything else than by sucking his cheeks in with an exasperatedly jaded inhale, turning his gaze away from the cat’s pointy glowering. A surprising smile then lifts up on Selina’s lips and she shifts her weight to her left foot preparing to stay there for an unplanned moment or two. 

“You know, this _is_ real funny actually. I should have known having a clown in the cave would be nothing but hilarious though at first I thought it rather stupid and completely unnecessary. As long as you’re here, he doesn’t have to be out there wasting his time pursuing your pathetic ass and he can instead spend his time here with me”, she says with a smirk taking her hands to her waist arrogantly.

Joker rolls his eyes before granting her sorry face another glance of his fed up attention.

“As if that doesn’t put it all to perspective for you. I thought you had at least two brain cells to rub together in that flea plagued head of yours but looks like I’m wrong. The fact that I allow him to keep me here is the sole reason this ‘holy matrimony’ between the two of you is even possible. If was out there, then he would be too because he’ll always choose me over you”, Joker says back to her, pointing at himself first and then her.

Selina’s smile cools down several degrees nearing to the temperature of the cold war in her eyes which remains unwavering.

“You’re an oblivious idiot, Joker”, she says slowly but assuredly. Joker’s nose puckers at that with superior disgust. Selina leans towards the glass even more and regards the extensive blank whiteness of Joker’s room and his clothes with a disrespectful look.

“Just look around you. Do you even realize that you’re caged? Do you realize where you are?” she questions him with a lithe hiss to her voice. Joker feels his back starting to round up into a more defensive posture, teeth biting together ready for a snarl.

“You’re in your enemy’s lair, captured and controlled in a wanton way that pleases him and him only. You may think you’re being embrace by a ‘lover’ but really, all he’s doing, is playing with your feelings. He’s abusing this obsessive infatuation you have towards him and twisting it into something he can control you with.”

Her face leans even closer to the glass, her voice firm and clear, callous to her own words. Joker’s back in uncurling, shoulders tightening, leaning away from her.

“And that’s all he cares about, Joker. The control. The power he has over you. To have all of you at his disposal at any time of the time when he wants and how he wants it. He knows you won’t quit, that you’ll always be there to bend at your knees to worship him in your dreadful way. He’s just found a way to make it so that nobody else suffers because of it, because of you, by _using_ that same sick love you have for him that used to shed so much blood out there. Now nobody suffers because of it except you.”

Red lips twist into an aggressive scowl yet the green eyes are deepening as the pupils swell and swell with the urgency of fear. Selina’s face suddenly starts to soften slightly if only to belittle him even further.

“But you don’t even know that he’s hurting you, do you? You don’t even realize what he’s done to you. You’re doing a bad job, clown – you make me sad.”

Joker won’t take this appalling mumbo-jumbo from the Pussycat any longer. Who is she tell him anything about him and Bats? She doesn’t have a clue because she’s always so wrapped up in her flimsy jewellery upstairs uncaring to the rest of the world as long as she gets to have as many kittens and rhombuses running around her the rest of her miserable life.

“You don’t know a thing about me and Bats. You think that just because there’s a pretty, glittery diamond on your finger that’s love but all it is, is a testimony of the falsehood of your relationship to him. There’s nothing else but the ring! You’re so obsessed with the glitz and glamour that you don’t even care to notice that’s all that it is. I’m sure any guy who came across your way with a wallet as big as Mr Wayne’s you wouldn’t have thought twice about saying yes. Bruce just took pity on you and made you his little wife to make the world a better place again. At the end of the day, you’re just a plain old prop to keep up his public image so that nothing will come and interfere with the true love he has for me as Batsy.”

The cat stares at him blankly. Then she continues in a stoically collected manner as if she had rehearsed these words in her mind time and a time again to comfort herself.

“You can’t know this, clown, because you’ll never be able to, but _Bruce Wayne_ is the person underneath the mask, not _another_ Batman. At the beginning of the day, he is Bruce Wayne and by the end of the day when he goes to bed, next to me, he _is_ Bruce Wayne. The few moments he spends in the cave in order to do his best to protect his city are the only moments that he’s Batman and ready to take the drastic measures to complete that task – including seeing you for five or so minutes from time to time.”

Joker sneers that her, hands from in fists and shaking at his sides.

“That’s not true. It just isn’t. If he didn’t love me, he wouldn’t take care of me like this. He wouldn’t come and touch me or keep me company. If he didn’t love me he would put me away out of his sight.”

“Look at this cell he’s keeping you in!” Selina then bursts out with big eyes throwing her hands up to point behind him.

From the abruptness of her loud voice Joker involuntarily glances slightly around himself and the room that reminds him so much of Arkham – the only difference being if only a billionaire playboy had built it with a Batman to make sure the security was faultless. Everything is absolutely pristinely white and bolted to the floor. The fabrics used on the fancy looking furniture may be the very finest in the world but they’re all the same bland colour that is used to keep mental patients calm. No sharp things around, just softness and rip-proof materials.

Joker carefully swallows around the lump forming in the back of his throat, squeezing his left arm with his hand nervously.

“Does it look like he cares about you really? If he truly cared about you, loved you, wouldn’t he take you _upstairs_ to a real room where you felt comfortable in, and in order to make sure you were fine he would spend every single second by your side instead of having security cameras do the work for him so that he doesn’t have to waste time worrying about you? Wouldn’t he want you to feel truly good and cared for by taking you outside from time to time, too, like a person? Wouldn’t he treat you like a human being instead of keeping you locked up here in the dark cave, alone in a white cell dressed in what is practically a _sleazy_ hospital gown?”

Joker peels his eyes from the white floor and forces himself to look back at her again even through the unimaginable pain.

“But he doesn’t because he doesn’t give two shits about you, Joker.”

Joker shakes his head so that his hair falls into his eyes that are tightly squeezed closed. He breathes out with a tremble in his lips and continues hurriedly.

“He said that he’ll take me out sometime. To the yard so that I can pick tulips for my room.”

“And when he did he say that?”

“He says it all the time…”

“You’ve been here for _four_ _years_! Why hasn’t he still taken you outside in all this time?”

“Because he’s _busy_! He’s BATMAN!”

“Bruce doesn’t love you, Joker! He doesn’t love anyone!”

Selina’s voice shakes slightly now as she yells.

The tears that have bubbled up in Joker’s eyes overflow to his flushed cheeks when he suddenly bats his eyes open again and shoots an intense glare right at her.

“Yes, he DOES! He loves me all the time! He touches me and kisses me and he-he takes me to the bed and…-“

“It’s about the _control,_ you fucking clown! It’s about him feeling so damn good about himself for having that power over you and getting in a good fuck. After all it’s all you’re good for now.”

Tears shower the floor as Joker shakes his head vehemently while keeping his harsh glassy glare on Selina. She isn’t looking so unfazed herself anymore but she looks like she’s already reached a certain understanding of all of this and is way ahead of him in coming to terms with it. Joker is determined in not having to do the same. Because he shouldn’t need to. Because it’s not true.

“No. You’re wrong. You’re just jealous that he doesn’t fuck _you_ like he fucks _me_. In bed I bet he hasn’t touched you in weeks because you’re such a sour pussy.”

She smiles with amusement.

“I’m glad he takes his frustrations out on you, _Joker_ , don’t be misled in that. The man doesn’t want anything more than sex and power. The little bit of love he still has to share with anything else other than this hopeless city, he shares it with me in the moments we have outside everything else. And that’s enough for me. Plenty enough.”

Joker simply laughs at that. He can’t hear this. It’s too unrealistic and delusional even for him. It makes his head hurt. He’s already turning around to get away from her when she continues by looking almost contemplative.

“One time. Just one time, I want to say _no_ to him. Just to see what happens. Just so that the realization can finally sink in for you – that you’re nothing but a clown trapped in his cave, fooled for the worst by your love for Batman so that you’re willing to do anything he wants from you.”

Joker tentatively glances at her once more from the corner of his eye.

“Just one time, Joker. Tell him you won’t have it and see what happens. See what’s right in front of you – the truth.”

Then it gets quiet, and she goes.

Joker sits down on the ground in the middle of the room and stares blankly at the hands in his lap. He looks at his nails which he manicures himself with the fancy little things and fragrant bottles Bat brings him to keep himself looking lovely and put together in compensation for not getting to wear his usual brilliant attires. Joker feels the hem of the white gown for the soft material and thinks about the silken lingerie underneath it he hadn’t asked for but was initially positively surprised about either way.

Joker wonders about all of this until his head feels heavy and he has to go to bed. He wakes up for a moment or so when the batmobile returns to the cave with a low hum but doesn’t get up to greet Batman like he usually does. Not that the Bat ever greets him back but still…

Joker bundles up his blanket and holds it to his chest bowing his head against it wishing someone was holding him instead. The fabric smells of Bruce but so does everything else in his room.

Joker listens as the Bat retreats upstairs, his steps gradually becoming quieter and quieter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you like this chapter? It delved a bit deeper into the manor dynamics, don't you think.


	3. C'est La Vie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: A non-con scene in this chapter, so heads up!

It is another day, another mindset. Joker goes through his morning routine as usual. He showers himself with lovely expensive scents in creamy textures and adds to them by the choosing of one of the best perfumes in the world. He sprays it across his body generously and starts combing through his hair afterwards. It’s getting rather _long_ : Joker pouts. He should remind Bruce to get Alfred to come in and cut it for him again. He’s done a decent job before, it’s just the fact that Joker needs to be strapped into a chair that bothers him about the whole ordeal. It’s kind of humiliating to him at this point. They’ve known each other for quite some time now after all. Joker should at least have his feet be free of the straps by now. It’s not like there’s much he can do with them anyway with the rest of them around his wrist and body. Also, Bruce always overlooks the procedure with a firm concentrated gaze.

Besides, Joker’s not going to flee during a haircut. Think of how bad he would look once he got out with just one side of his hair trimmed? He would be the laughing stock of the whole Gotham underbelly! No, sir, Joker was not going to take that chance.

Joker continues with his preparations for the day by brushing his teeth thoroughly and then spreading all sorts of wonderful lotions on his skin to keep it from becoming oversensitive. He appreciates how Bruce went all out for him when it came to this section of his care routine but then again, what kind of a man wouldn’t enjoy a smooth clown to hold.

But that reminds him… What if Bruce came over today, would Joker act as if nothing was new or should he test out the Pussycat’s challenge just to prove her to be wrong like always?   

Joker ponders on it, tapping a finger against his chin when Alfred comes with his breakfast.

“Jeeves!”

“Good morning, sir. Eggs benedict and a side of watermelon cubes. I hope you enjoy”, Alfred wishes and promptly leaves after that not letting Joker have the even briefest moment to comment on anything. Joker can merely shrug about it before picking up the silver platter again and taking it over to the table to eat.

He hopes that when Alfred comes to take the tray back, he’ll have some more time to share a few words with him – Joker simply wishes to talk to somebody even if it’s a whole lot of nothing about nothing. At least, he wants to complement Alfred on the perfectly prepared breakfast that just melts in his mouth into sparks of molten joy. The watermelon is the perfect accompaniment piece to the eggs and thick sauce – its fresh sweet succulence cutting through the creaminess in a sprinkling way.

Joker’s just about finished with his meal despite taking his sweet time enjoying every bit of it when Bruce suddenly drops by his cell. He comes through the side shifting door in the glass wall with the beep of a passcode and casually makes his way over to Joker still seated at the table.

Joker practically jumps up from the chair, nearly nocking it over from underneath him when he notices Bruce’s presence. The chair makes a tapping sound as the front legs fall back on the floor from the sudden movement and makes Joker smile widen awkwardly.

“Oh, hi Bruce. I didn’t see you there”, Joker greets him with a strange nervousness to his voice even he himself cannot explain. He even hides his hands behind the small of his back for some reason as if there was something he didn’t want Bruce to view.

Bruce smiles back at him politely but clearly taking enjoyment out of Joker’s funny faltering. He glances at the empty tray on the table and points to it leisurely.

“Would you like me to take this back while you finish composing yourself or…” he says poking fun at Joker although he deals out his dashing white playboy grin right after with a smouldering deep blue gaze.

Joker doesn’t even think to think about it, feeling so overwhelmed out of the sudden, and simply waves his hand approvingly with a stroppy chuckle. Bruce grabs the tray and takes it over to the slot where it’s then sucked to the other side for safekeeping. Only then does Joker realize it’s probably why Bruce offered to take it away from him in the first place – so that there are no such sharp things around Joker while he’s inside the cell.

A wise choice though kind of disappointing one to Joker at the same time for another non-explanatory reason. He’s rather starting to hate himself right now for feeling so confused all of the sudden. Joker tries to get himself together again and shakes his head for good measure.

Bruce returns over to Joker by the table and softly, without any hesitation, strokes his hand over Joker’s cheekbone tenderly. Joker swoons at the gesture, stars twinkling in his eyes with adoration as he gazes at Bruce’s strong yet sophisticated features smiling down at him and the healthy shine of his nearly ink black hair, luscious and slightly curled over the side part neatly.

“I missed you last night. You didn’t say hello to me”, Bruce then says, a slight frown forming on his forehead. Joker’s heart breaks with a horrified gasp and a hand clapped over his bright lips.

“You never answered me, I thought you didn’t like it!” Joker stutters out. Bruce smiles comfortingly to him then and brushes his thumb over Joker’s temple gently.

“It’s alright. I think it’s nice when you do it, it shows that you care. I just rarely have the time or the energy to respond to it”, he says while his hands starts to skim down from Joker’s cheek to his neck and further downwards. Joker feels relieved but also surprised to hear that Bruce has liked his moonlight wishes for a good night or cheers for doing a great job once again.

“Okay. I know better now. You won’t miss it again, I promise you Bats!” Joker says and grins happily again.

“Good”, he answers and smiles tenderly. Joker bites his lips then absentmindedly as a thought pops into his head for the hundredth time. Bruce notices him pondering and prompts him to it.

“What are you thinking about?”

Joker nearly blushes from just that but he tries not to act like such a little schoolgirl. Either way, a fingertip finds itself to the edge of his lips making Joker look incredibly coy as he looks at Bruce from underneath his lashes.

“I was just wondering when we were going to go pick those tulips for my room from the garden.”

Bruce grins in a silly way at that. “We’ve been over this. As soon as you start feeling better, I’ll take you out to the garden and you can pick as many flowers for your room as you like”, he says.

Joker pouts exaggeratedly.

“But aren’t I already so much better? Aren’t I, Brucie-baby? I really want to go outside with you, it get so gloomy being here all the time!” Joker bargains. Bruce just smiles at him and he caresses his cheek some more.

“I know but that’s the deal we made. You’ll stay here where it’s safe for you, where you’re close to me.”

Joker gaze drops to the floor a bit sadly. “I know…”

 Bruce’s thumb strokes gently over the pouty line on Joker’s jaw.  “Soon. Soon you’ll have your tulips.”

And at that Joker’s gaze picks up immediately with one of the brightest excited smiles ever.

Bruce’s lips are smiling too before they are latched on Joker’s neck, making the clown feel weak at the knees and a tugging in the pit of his stomach.

Joker swings his arms around Bruce’s neck then, craving to get closer to him with a flammable reaction. Bruce’s hands wander down Joker’s back until they finally reach the hem of his gown and pull it upwards to get to the good stuff.

The satin lace is being felt through by Bruce’s big, commanding hands. Joker whines into his neck as he hugs himself closer to Bruce’s chest, trying to press his hips against his as well. Bruce groans against Joker’s neck when he gets in a particularly good squeeze of his ass.

Then just as Joker’s eyes have completely shut from the overabundance of sensitizing feelings, they suddenly snap open with a reminder – a stupid cat’s stupid reminder stuck in Joker’s brain like a bloodsucking leech.

_Say no to him._

Besides there’s no harm in asking this, Joker thinks. Because he knows he’s right and once it’s all well and proofed out, then he can get rid of this awful scratch in the forefront of his mind and continue with business as usual.

It’s fine. He can do it. It’s so small and stupid, it’s ridiculous and Joker’s ready to laugh about himself already for even thinking about it but it’s certainly going to be fine nevertheless. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine.

Joker arches his back slightly starting to lean away from Bruce. Bruce just holds tighter on Joker’s waist, mouth falling on Joker’s hungrily. Joker involuntarily moans into it before breaking the kiss off, again rather involuntarily – oh, how he hates the damned Pussycat…

Joker presses his forehead against Bruce’s cheek so he can’t try to kiss him again into silence, and also places his hands to his broad shoulders to push himself out of his grip. Joker only manages to gain a few inches of breathing room between them but it’ll work fine for now.

“Hey… um, actually, uh… Could we, maybe, do this another time, you know?” Joker stammers trying to catch Bruce’s attention from his eyes. The blue ocean in them calms down for a second and it gets very analytical – so much so that even the fish are doing geometry.

“What are you saying?” Bruce asks in quite a confused sort of way that is almost endearing. It would really would be, if it wasn’t for the _cool_ stare he’s giving Joker simultaneously.

Joker chuckles a little and pulls off another inch farther away from Bruce’s shock stilled hands cautiously.

“Yeah, I mean I’m just saying uh… no.”

Bruce stares at him blankly.

“No?”

“Yeah… _No_ ”, Joker tries to explain with a stupid foolish grin on his face, hands still stuck to Bruce’s shoulder to hold him off just in case. He’s being ridiculous, Joker knows this. What the cat said, it’s simply outrageous. Joker might as well go with what they _both_ started and have a great day instead of this ludicrous experimentation.

“What ‘no’ are you talking about?” Bruce demands with a steep crease between his dark brows and a firm line to his mouth. Joker gently tries to pull out of Bruce’s grasp just a _liiitle_ bit more at that point…

“Oh, you know, just my _consent_. Like, I’m not giving it to you, so… _no_ ”, Joker states again with a dumb laugh at the end, eyebrows shooting towards the heavens slightly as he tries to put on his biggest smile.

Bruce isn’t laughing at all, though. It’s just his grip on Joker’s waist that’s laughing, tightening up to a real black and blue of a bruise. The frown on his face deepens.

“You think I need your consent here,” he says, carefully stressing each word, and adds with a harsher tone to his deep voice, “ _clown_?”

Joker swallows down an audible lump. If he had a collar to his clothes, he would certainly be tugging on it to get some air into his lungs.

Bruce leans towards him closer, towering over his lithe form imposingly.

“You are my prisoner. I don’t need consent from you to do _anything_. _I_ make the decisions around here. The only matter you get to choose is whether you roll with the punches or fall from them.”

Joker is stunned into a state of bafflement, eyes widening and mouth freezing into the shape of a circle. Bruce’s unyielding grip tightens only further bringing Joker’s body closer to his and Joker is broken from his shock when he has to move his feet. Bruce presses him to the edge of the table behind him and Joker feels like he can’t breathe out of the sudden.

“I-I don’t understand”, Joker stammers out with dry chuckles but it isn’t all that funny anymore. Bruce squeezes him into his place.

“And you don’t need to. You just have to do what I tell you”, he says and the stone cold look on his usually handsome face is so unfamiliar to Joker that the clown, maybe for the first time ever, becomes truly afraid of him. So scared out of his mind that he doesn’t fight him when Bruce easily twists Joker around until he suddenly pushed on his chest across the hard marble table. He quickly tries to reach for purchase in his panic and eventually just grips the edges of the table for dear life, disorientated as Bruce roughly and unabashedly pushes the whie gown up to his waist to reveal what he’s looking for.

Joker gasps for air with tremble glancing bewilderedly behind himself to Bruce. The man isn’t even looking at his face, there isn’t anything else in his eyes but a frown.

Bruce replies to Joker’s gaze by pressing his hand to the middle of Joker’s shoulder-blades to flatten him down onto the cool surface so that Joker’s unable to look at him. The clown’s jaw hits the table top with an angry thud from the movement causing a whimper to escape him while Bruce continues by ripping his flimsy underwear off of him.

The metal legs of the table squeak slightly from the pressure and movements despite being bolted to the floor. The noise becomes even more noticeable when Joker starts to struggle against Bruce’s will. It has managed to penetrate into Joker’s mind enough to make his vocal chords finally work again.

“No, Bats, don’t! Stop!” Joker says as he tries to push himself of the table, the muscles in his arms straining with the effort. Bruce is, however, blocking his way with the way he’s pressed up against him and trying to get even closer. Joker then tries kicking him but all his legs manage to do is makes his knees collide into the metal legs and make him hurt himself. Joker sobs out, trying his hardest to escape from Bruce and this mad, mad situation, but nothing takes effect.

Bruce doesn’t listen to him.

He is too strong.

Too uncaring.

It makes green hair fall into Joker’s eyes as they begin to brim with aching tears. It makes everything hurt and feel so out of place.

At some point he just lays there on the table. And he takes it. Even if he’s gritting his teeth so hard that he nearly breaks them. Even when wound up whimpers and whines come through the suffocating lump in his throat.

Joker’s nails burrow themselves against the marble of the table as he holds onto it with a death grip, gaze forced away, eyes captured by the extensive blunt blankness of the white wall. Bruce fucks him, Joker’s jutting hipbones are burning as they collide with the edge of the table and Joker cries, whishing he had never listened to the cat. Wishing it wasn’t true. That this wouldn’t be happening. That they would instead be outside in the garden picking tulips for his room.

The sounds coming from behind his back become muffled out in Joker’s ears until he can barely make them out although not that he would want to. The harsh tightness and discomfort of the way Bruce holds him is the only thing he can focus on besides the overwhelmingly dark thoughts running inside his mind filling him to the edge with desperation, hopelessness and betrayal, and becoming hit with the knowledge of realizing what a fool he has been. All this time.

It ends with a tight groan and burning heat spreading inside Joker’s very being.

When _he’s_ done, he bitterly pulls the gown back over Joker’s lower half but the clown barely registers it. He cannot even move from his position. _He_ , however, doesn’t seem to care as he simply then walks off, out of the room and locking Joker back in without a second glance. Then it’s only Joker and now a patronizing feeling of loneliness left by his side.

When Bruce has strolled back upstairs, when Joker can’t hear anything else in the cave besides the bats hanging from the cliffs, he stiffly unhooks his claw-like hold of the table, and with numb legs, slides down from the table to the floor in a heap of a broken clown. His face is even paler than usual though smeared with glimmering tear tracks. His nose is pink and running, mouth still hanging open uselessly. His gaze cannot focus, it simply wanders across the never-ending whiteness of the room, unblinking.

Joker swallows around the unforgiving feeling inside him, through the stone in his throat, before inevitably, uncontrollably, breaking into scream filled crying that echoes inside the empty cave. Joker’s hands shake in front of his face as he tries to hide his vision from reality of the situation but the images won’t leave his mind.

How he hates the cat, how he so deeply hates her. Why couldn’t she just mind her own business, why couldn’t she just let them be how they were. It was fine. It had been perfect. Exactly why she had had to go and ruin it. She was too jealous. Too spiteful. She ruined _EVERYTHING_!

She _ruined_ everything…

Joker holds his knees to his chest, the pale skin purpling with fresh bruises, and Joker tucks his head against them quietly. This was all her fault. She was to blame. She made Joker push Batsy and of course Bats had to respond to that insolence with the proper might. Joker should kill her. He would kill her! If he only had the chance.

Joker strokes his hurt knees like it would heal them and heal his brain from the memory of the act that caused them. Bruce is just a little possessive over him. He wants to protect him. What was Joker expecting of him? He’s the Batman!

Joker falls asleep on the floor that night, his fingernails, that Alfred makes sure to clip short and round, dug into the skin of his shoulders. It’s a cold night but Joker doesn’t take notice of it.

In the morning, however, his blanket from the bed has been draped over him and Joker feels it up confusedly in his hands. After Joker managed to slowly get up, discovering a slight limp to his left leg at the same time, he remarks a new addition made to his room.

On the marbe table now stands a white vase inside of which are standing lovely purple tulips, gorgeous and bright. A smile forms on the clown’s lips and his teary red eyes soften at the sight as he smells the flowers, carefully cradling one in his still trembling hands.

 _He_ does care, doesn’t he…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how did you like that, huh? Also, what did you think of that accidental reference to Mad Love with the flowers waiting for Joker in the ending? I'd love to hear what you think and maybe on who do you think gave Joker the flowers and how things are going to move on from this.
> 
> Thanks for reading either way! Have a happy day :)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what's with me and the color white but... yeah that's probably always going to be a reoccurring matter in my stories. Is it boring to you? I don't know. It must be for the clown. I cannot even imagine it. 
> 
> Okay but hey, let me know what you think of this so far. There's just two more chapters coming up but either way. It's going to be a short yet an interesting ride, I think. 
> 
> ~ tumblr: @literallyabstract  
> (come say hi, leave a headcanon or a prompt!)


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